


Who we were

by Televa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: George thinks the life he and Fred had, I actually made myself cry, Incest, M/M, Twincest, and everything that happened, unbetad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-08 14:59:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/762709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Televa/pseuds/Televa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George thinks about the life he had with Fred and the years that passed. During their whole life, they were unseparatable twins and lovers, but most of all they were brothers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who we were

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so glad I finally finished this - this became much longer than was expected. In case you don't know me, I have to remind that this is unbetad and, because English isn't my mother tongue, may contain misspelling and other mistakes.  
> Plus: any character mentioned belongs to lovely J. K. Rowling, and I just use them in my own stories because it's fun. I had fun writing this, and I wish you'll have fun reading this. Enjoy, sweetheats.

When we were two years old we were inseparable. We did everything together, just like we do now. My first word was Fred’s name and vice versa. We knew nothing what happened in the world around us, but yet we knew who we were; twins and brothers who were bonded to take care of each other.

When we were seven years old we understood what we were able to. We made tiny pranks to our other brothers almost every day and loved to hear their laughs. I will forever remember that one time when Fred stole mother’s wand and transformed all forks and knives into crying roses. She was so furious – amused but furious – and we were so small and frightened. We then vowed not to do any prank never again, but that oath has been broken too many times.

When we were thirteen years old we were still so excited about being a real Gryffindor students in Hogwarts. We tried to do our homework, practice spells and transformations. But, as you may guess, it never worked. It didn’t seem right anymore. Instead, what seemed to be right was keeping Fred near me and get into trouble together. When the third year was over we understood that we weren’t made for studying.

When we were seventeen years old we had finally found our life outside Hogwarts. After years of failed experiments and break-throughs, we had developed enough products to start our own business. We found a lovely place in the Diagon Alley to keep our shop. It was large enough to be noticed, and small enough to keep eye on the customers. Our apartment was just behind the corner. Oh I can’t even count how many lovely nights we spend there watching the clear sky above us drinking fire whiskey! During those nights Fred snuggled so close to me I could feel his heartbeat racing with mine, and usually then I kissed the very corner of his eyes and enjoyed our time together.

When we were twenty-three, our company was the most successful business in that part of Diagon Alley. Because of that, we were able to give our family members all what they’d ever dreamt about. When Father was getting really tired of his work we gathered everyone together (including Harry, Fleur, Hermione, and Neville) and arranged a holiday in France or in Italy or even in Romania if they wanted to. It was our way to thank them for being there with us when they were needed most.

When we were twenty-nine, our mother asked when we’re about marry someone lovely girl and have a family. I didn’t know how to answer her, because saying ‘Yeah, actually, I’m in love with my twin brother and he loves me back’ really wasn’t the brightest idea. Thank God exactly then Fred called from the storage, so I just shrugged and ran to my brother. Since that day Mother has tried to ask it again and again and again, but we haven’t answered. I love Fred, but my heart would shatter if told her the truth.

When we were twenty-four, it was day before our twenty-fifth birthday, Charlie died. His death had been an accident; the dragon had bolted and swung its spikey tail right into our brother’s chest. Charlie, being the eccentric person he was, had been in the wrong place in the wrong time.

When we were just experienced our twenty-fifth birthday we buried our brother. The funeral was black and full of sorrow. It didn’t matter where I looked; tears had reddened everyone’s eyes and faces. As we sat silently there, like bodies ourselves, watching Charlie’s body being closed in a white coffin, I squeezed Fred’s hand and buried my face into his shoulder. When night settled in and we were back in our old room in the Burrow, Fred and I had to make love very silently. We have had rough times, but this time it was more like making sure that the other was alive and loved.

When we were thirty-three, our life was thrown upside down. There was a huge fire in the Diagon Alley, and our shop was flickered by flames – just like the other shops near us. Fred and I survived barely, and he was kept at St. Mungo’s for five days. I sat next to his bed keeping his hand in mine crying. Fred tried to calm me down repeating “It’s fine, we’ll get through this” over and over again. Before I fell asleep I remember how Fred smoothed my hair with his half-burned hand.

When we were forty-four years old, Fred’s hand didn’t ache anymore. The skin was completely recovered, despite the few long scars. First he had hated them for many months, but somehow he grew up to cope with them. Every night we went to sleep, I put my arm around his and touched the scars. I thanked every god I knew for keeping Fred alive. I wouldn’t survive a day without my love.

When we were forty-nine years old, we decided to have a holiday in Morocco. It was a place both one of us had never visited before, and man how much I love that place! I didn’t matter where we went; everywhere we were surrounded by several exotic colours, mind-blowing smells and weirdly-shaped objects. Days were hot and nights warm, which was totally different compared to the British weather. During that spring we added a new candy to our collection: a raspberry-pepper jellybean with a filling that transforms one’s legs into frog legs for thirty minutes. That week was one of the happiest weeks of my life.

When we were fifty-eight years old, our life had changed a lot. Our parents were dead; Bill and Fleur got his second grandchild and we had our last year before retiring. Somehow I felt both guilty and glad about it; finally we had someone else to run the shop, but also time to do whatever we never find time to. Now we can read as much as we want to and explore the muggle world or just stay home.

And now, when we are seventy-six, I hold Fred’s body in my arms as the Sun sets and the street around our home starts to come alive. The idea of living here without him makes me sad, yet I know that time won’t be long. Just a few more days, and then I’ll follow my love.


End file.
